The evening starts off casually enough, we're over at John's sister's house having dinner on the deck. They all have a few drinks in them and the conversation in on drugs. I start telling them about how the kids are now putting pills up their asses to heighten the drugs' effects...and that the kids even told me about it. Everyone is kind of dubious, but then John reminds them about how that one guy who couldn't drink anymore was giving himself Sherry enemas so that he could still get drunk. This is the conversation that followed.

Jason: Your sister gives me enemas all the time!

Everyone ignores this...and tries to move the topic to something "safer" than Jason's enema...but someone can't let it go.

Picnic goer: Well I'd to be careful because I have a hemorrhoid.
John (always eager to share when tipsy): I have a hemorrhoid!
John's Brother: You can get them from sitting on cold concrete..."
John: I had to take Preparation H in a suppository.
John'sBrother's GF: I had to use an anal suppository.
Me: Why?
John's Brother's GF: Because I have anal um...anal... canyons?
John Brother: What?!?
Me: I think you mean anal fissures.
John's Brother's GF: Yeah...that's right!
John's Brother: What?!?
John: I think you get them from...umm...
John's Brother: How come this is the first time I'm hearing about this?"
John's Brother's GF: Because I don't just tell everybody!
All of us: laugh hysterically


Enter John's sister

John to his sister: "You gave Jason an enema?!?"

John was excited to see Headbanger's Ball on MTV2 now that we have fancy schmancy cable. Of course, I rolled my eyes. However, I should've been as happy as him because now I have something to blog about! So far we've watched only three videos (it's a freaking 3 hour Tivo extravaganza) and I've never laughed so hard in my life. Since I'm out of comission in the drinking department, I set John up with some whiskey and some cola and had him review this video for me. Here's what came out of his mouth. I typed as hard as I possibly could:
"Is that bald guy wearing assless chaps?"
"Uhhhh I hate this apple because it's going to rot because I have eye makeup on and I'm making a funny face at it!"
"That guy totally looks exactly like Christopher Lambert meets the Crow meets KISS and then gets his ass kicked"
"The assless chap guy is headbanging!"
"This would be Tobey from the Office's band"
"Ohhhh floating on water...."
"There can be only one assclown, and it is me!"
"Got any religious imagery to go with that drum kit?"
"Nice Gwar outfits!"
"We might be watching American Gladiators, I'm not sure..."
"Guys you shouldn't practice near open flame like that...guitar strings are metal and subject to heat."
"It looks like they're standing in the pillaged village from First Knight" (John said that...and I said, "I can't believe you remember that movie!"
"Whoa! Did you see that death confetti, I mean deathfetti...They probably call it cumfetti..."
"They all have moonboots on too..."
"Are they wearing goalie pads on their legs?"
"Ohhhh extreme beards"
"Oh a gothy angel with her wings ripped out...how controversial..."
"We have to watch this with our kids just so they know...it's not OK to watch this crap because we will make fun of you."

You know hoodies? You know like the picture to the left? I have to force myself to call them hoodies because when I was growing up, my dad called them sweathoods...which is what I secretly call them.

The term sweathood is so dirty and nasty! I'm just picturing a hood all full of sweat. Now, it's not the most humiliating thing ever but I'm just trying to wrap my head around what other words my dad mistaught me. I know there has to be a lot out there since the man would write things like this:

zink=sink
bite-a-min= vitamin
skreen door=screen door

Amazingly, English was his first and only language. Even more amazing? I teach English.

Reveal something only moderately humiliating to me. Pwwwwweeeeassssssszzzzzzzze???

PS. Buy me that sweathood *ahem* HOODIE...it's flippin' sweet!

I want to eat all of the meatballs in the world...
simultaneously, I want to puke constantly--and yet--I never do.

John and I go for our first appointment on Wednesday, we'll let you know what's going on with the Shrimp (if you care). I found out today that he's/she's the size of a green olive and it made me want a jar of them...and about a gallon of gin martinis...extra dirty (my first alcohol craving). Don't worry, I just sucked down the salty water the olives are floating in and let it run down my chin and trail down my (ginormous) breasts with reckless abandon (I'm not bragging...I'm stating a fact, they are large, but not freakish yet...I will keep updating their status because everyone cares about that). I kinda wish I was kidding.

My new nickname for John is, "dork without borders"...
It's kind of like doctors without borders except he doesn't wear a labcoat, treat people or wear a stethoscope...
Mostly he acts like the biggest dork around (but he really doesn't...I just need someone to pick on).

But this comes from a woman who was previously calling her husband, Dorkus For Realius...um you know, a play on the name Marcus Aurealius. What? I did a report on him in 5th grade and I never forgot him. All of this leads me to believe that John probably calls me things under his breath and when I'm not around.

"Better Safe than Sorry" is a great axiom, don't you think?
We're going to John's sister's house for dinner and while she's a great cook she tends to buy all of her food at our local "scratch and dent" grocery store. The same grocery store that had John running out of it, looking pale and scare. All he went in there for was tomato juice for Bloody Mary's! So don't tell anyone but I already ate a little, ya know...just to be safe and to be full...but mostly safe.

1. My bedtime is now any time that my body is laying on the couch. I fall asleep within seconds.

2. I've always hated avocados, the other day I had the most delicious thing in the whole world and the main ingredient? Ava-fucking-cados...go figure (if I start to like bananas my whole world will shift).

3. All those times when I thought I had a poochy stomach, I didn't have a poochy stomach...in fact, I think I had a supermodel-like stomach, now using hindsight. Right now it's just a bloated stomach...but poochy stomach is just around the bend.

4. That tattoo of the stupid Celtic knot that I got when I was a young impressionable undergrad??? Yeah, even dumber when it's situated on my pelvic bone. Looking forward to see how it transforms about as much as people were looking forward to the Titanic sinking.

5. I could eat Chicken Marsala, every. single. day.

6. Or Ramen Noodles...

7. Or pasta...

8. What does it mean when all I crave is pasta and bloody meat!!! I forgot to mention that I dream of steaks...vivid, vivid steak dreams (oh don't worry...I'm not eating anything rare but I really, really miss it).

9. I don't really miss alcohol that much (so far), especially when I see John wake up with a hangover. (I know, it shocks me too!)

10. On weekends without a hangover? I am PEPPY! and I get out of bed at the ungodly hour of 5 am. I really feel for John because I would hate myself too if I were hungover.

11. I miss my sex drive...I heard the second trimester is better in that department...it better be because this is just not normal. John was shocked when he learned that I haven't used my vibrator in a week...I'm going to have sex tonight, just to feel normal!!! (That's sexy isn't it?)

12. I like to cry at the drop of a hat. For example, John's a douchebag (I mean that with love Hon) and he woke me up the other night because "I was breathing on him" (seriously!) I started to cry because he woke me up...yep, I'm hormonal.

13. My boobs are ginormous and hard. The ginormous part is not as weird as the hard part...they are seriously mini boulders strapped to my chest.

14. My dreams are ridiculously awesome in their weirdness...the most recent ones involved Cylons (I haven't seen Battlestar Galactica since I was 5), a high school building and a friend drunk on a broomstick.

15. I could eat all day and all night...but I'm not...yet. Mostly because I want to look more like Leia than Jabba when this is all said and done (what? I'm married to John...I can use Star Wars analogies if I so choose).